United States, (b. 1945)
The Blue Hog
- I didn’t have to buy the acid.
- I found it in an old battery in the barn
- Where the cows make sea noises
- And the cobwebs are plated gold.
- There were packets of birdseed, white floats
- Of cork, turpentine, and an old black fishline
- Which shouldn’t have worked but did.
- All of it a sin for the taking —
- I chose the acid for its smoke
- And the fishline to tie around my toe
- To remind me of the smoke.
- I threw the rotten apples into the yard
- And the blue hog charged.
- He was unpardonable, having
- Killed my sister’s child. John couldn’t
- Butcher him — to eat that hog
- Would be to eat the child.
- I poured the acid into pink Christmas bulbs
- And sewed them into the hollowed apples.
- I put them out into the sun to soften.
- The hog swallowed them whole like smoke.
- By the time he looked under himself
- He was already broke. My long dress shook.
- He stopped to give me a look,
- And then ran straight at the barn.
- His head and shoulders passed through the boards.
- The horse inside
- Had a hissing fit over him. Nobody
- Has ridden that horse since
- Except for the devil
- Who’s said to still be in the district.
The Obscure
For my grandfather
- It’s the poor first light of the morning.
- The woman still sleeps in her unheated room.
- The man in his nightshirt stands
- In the kitchen burning
- Dry sunflower-stalks in the open stove.
- There’s not a single lamp working.
- The orange light from the stove
- Shows just the things in the far corner.
- Outside the window it is still snowing.
- The harvest is finished. The time has come
- For killing the pig.
- They have been starving him for a week;
- Yesterday, emptying him completely
- With a wet portion of barleymeal.
- The pig is hungry and squeals in his corner
- By the garden.
- The man has dressed in an old canvas coat. He stands inside the branch-fence Beside the sty, and with a broom sweeps
- A clearing in the snow.
- He lays out the knives, the rope
- And a black stool.
- Birds stream from the tree above him.
- The pig is stuck in the windpipe, he hangs
- By the rope from the tree, and upside-down
- Spins slowly above the stool,
- His eyes never leave this man
- Who brought him so many warm vegetables.
- The man’s thoughts never leave the woman
- Who is still sleeping up in the house.
- She walked through the woods in the snow
- For most of the evening.
- For the second night In their lives she wouldn’t be touched
- By him.
- The pig is ready for the scalding. He has
- Never before been this heated and pink.
- A high window opens in the house.
- Icicles fall From the windowsill. The woman looks out
- Opening her eyes to the bright snow:
- The pig hangs in the tree like an ornament of wax
- Stuck with a few red jewels, she had not
- Been warned about the killing at all;
- There’s her scream and then
- Just a silence leaving the man to himself,
- To little else but the thought
- That her breasts filled the window like a mouth.
Nimrod & the Flying Pig
- 1.
- The king was burning the tall grasses
- to market an exhaust, a gate
- animals would spring from, Nimrod’s
- archers dropping them in air,
- in service to the autumn banquet.
- It felt nearly a winter’s day and the king
- looked into the black smoke of the sky
- while a green flying sow
- passed wildly overhead detailing
- to the king that he was shameless
- and truly cursed among men.
- 2.
- This pig threw this king off his need
- for a harvest mead. He returned
- a large cart full of grapes and wheat
- to his old toothless mother
- 3.
- who he had imprisoned months earlier
- somewhere in the southern swamp.
- 4.
- Nimrod began to fast. He shaved
- his head and snorted myrrh with prayers.
- Then the pig flew over again, over
- Nimrod’s bath house
- which was open to sky.
- The pig told the king once more
- that essentially
- he was doomed beyond remedy,
- more than anyone who’d lived in recorded history.
- (This limitation, its specificity
- with reference to time emboldened
- Nimrod who reached instantly for his bow, piercing
- mortally the pig’s throat
- with a long yellow arrow of pine wood.)
- 5.
- From that day forward the king
- lived in perfect happiness
- far into old age
- and was blessed with six sons
- who like their father were also cruel
- beyond definition.
- The king said he was individually
- charmed among men. Reports,
- in fact, insist that his mother is still
- living in a suburb of Annapolis—
- ‘flying pig’ is N.S.A.
- code for something you’d seriously
- rather not know. Now,
- read our poem to its conclusion
- but never tell a single living soul
- of your exposure to it.
- Oh, and
- the pig’s name was Protobus.
- Protobus is an anagram
- of Hamlet. Thelma is an anagram
- of Hamlet. Pity the poor pig.
- Poor all of us.
About the Poet:
Norman Dubie, United States, (b. 1945), is a poet and educator. Dubie accepted a position there to Arizona State University in 1975 and has worked there ever since, currently serving as the Regents Professor of English. He is married to poet Pamela Stewart.
He is the author of more than twenty-seven collections of poetry and his works have appeared in The New Yorker, Ploughshares, The Paris Review, FIELD, Narrative, The American Poetry Review, The Fiddlehead, Blackbird, Antaeus and others. His work has been translated into 30 languages.
Dubie has received the Bess Hokin Prize from the Poetry Foundation and the 2002 PEN Center USA Literary Award for Poetry and 2016 Griffin Poetry Prize. He also received fellowships and grants from the Ingram Merrill Foundation, the Guggenheim Foundation, and the National Endowment for the Arts.
His many collections of poetry include Robert Schumann is Mad Again (2019); Quotations of Bone (2015), The Volcano (2010); The Insomniac Liar of Topo (2007); Ordinary Mornings of a Coliseum (2004); The Mercy Seat (2001); and The Everlastings (1980). [DES-01/22]